Roses In December
by scififreak
Summary: Ororo and Charles discover something new between old friends.


Roses in December

Summary: Ororo and Charles discover something new between old friends.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, obviously, Marvel does. DO-NOT-SUE-ME the only thing of value I have is my soul..and that's depreciating by the day.

Pairing: Ororo/Charles

AN: Just as warning: This story isn't action packed or exciting. It is mostly a quiet and introspective story. I just don't want anyone to tell me that it's boring or something. Also, this story isn't set in any one universe. There are various comic and movie references. For example, in my story Ororo's eyes are brown, as they are in Ultimate X-Men and the Movie. 

Rating: G

It had been three years since she had last seen him, three years that she had spent "moving on" with her life, three years since he had retracted his marriage proposal. Sitting on her balcony, as she did now, she sometimes wondered what her life would have been like had she left the mansion with him. Now, when she heard his name, she no longer felt sick to her stomach, had a tight feeling in her chest, or felt her throat constrict. This was all well and good, but while she felt relief at the absence of pain, she also felt a bit sad and curious. 

'What was he doing now?' 'Was he happy?' 'Did he ever fall in love again?' All these things she wondered about on days like this. It was early January, the middle of winter, and everything was covered with snow. The sky was overcast and the only life to be seen was in one's memory. She was always reminded of words by Emerson on these bleak days: "God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December." Forge was like that to her now: a fleeting memory of the road not taken. He was a fork in the road to her, and in retrospect she was very happy that she stayed on her current path; with the X-Men. 

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Sitting in his office, looking at the same sky, Charles's thoughts were a bit different from Ororo's. In the snow covered landscape she saw bleakness and death, but he saw warmth and contentment. He likened winter to a resting period between spring, summer, and fall.

The house was empty, it was Sunday and everyone was out enjoying their last day of relaxation before the work week began. Only Charles and Ororo were home, and neither were accustomed to silence in the huge mansion. 

Charles had spent the earlier part of that morning reading over proposed legislation regarding mutants and reading a lengthy paper that Hank was submitting to the New England Journal of Medicine on the increasing occurrence of the X Factor in the years following WWII. It was a fascinating and well researched paper-of course; it *was* Hank, after all, but by noon his eyes were blurring from the intense reading and he was starving.

He was trying to use his powers to see inside the refrigerator (to no avail) when he felt a presence walk to his door, pause, and then walk on. He was about to call Ororo in (he knew it was her because she was the only other person in the house and her "Presence" was unique) when on impulse he decided to go after her himself. 

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When she finally snapped out of her reverie, Ororo decided that the best cure for melancholy was activity. The problem for her was the fact that the mansion was empty- aside from her and Charles. Not that she didn't consider Charles company, but he was most likely busy and she did not imagine that she could get him to engage her in a game or activity. The only thing she could think to do was water and tend to her plants. A chore that was mundane and, more importantly, time killing. 

To get to the greenhouse she had to walk down from the third story (where her room in the attic was) to the first floor. Because of her claustrophobia she took the stairs, and when she was on the second floor she saw Charles's office and stopped. She could just knock on his door and ask if he was busy. If he said yes, okay. If he said no....well, she would ask him if he wanted to "hang," as Bobby would say, with her. She walked up to his door, raised her hand to knock, and then stopped. Of course he would be busy, she thought. He was always busy. She would just be disturbing him for no good reason. Having made her decision not to bother him she turned around, headed towards the staircase, and continued on towards her original destination.

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By the time Charles got around his desk and to the door, Ororo was no where in sight. Not wanting to spend 20 minutes looking for her in the huge mansion, he scanned the whole area to learn her whereabouts. 

"Ah, she's in the greenhouse." He said to himself

It wasn't much of a surprise, really. Ororo loved plants. The attic, where she resided, was filled with them. Heading to the elevator he mused on how much Ororo herself was like a plant: refined, unassuming, a survivor...and she had a definite air of wisdom and ancient knowledge about her. 

The closer he got to the first floor, the stronger her presence became. It was like a wave of tranquility was enveloping the whole area. For a moment he wished that he could send those good vibes all over the entire world. 

Once he was on the first floor, he was about to head for the door, when he remembered how hungry he was. It would be easier to go out the kitchen door and grab something on his way out. He had meant to grab something simple, like an apple, but that idea was vanquished as soon as he reached the large kitchen and spied a chocolate cake on the table. He knew Rogue had made it since baking was her specialty and she was addicted to chocolate. All her treats were made from scratch and delicious so one did not pass up her cake.

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Once she was around her plants, Ororo could forget about the rest of the world and think about herself. That was something she seldom did. It was always about other people and what *they* needed from her. Logan was always telling her to be more selfish-like him. He left when he felt like it; if he didn't want to do something he didn't do it; and he had no problem telling people no. She hoped that a little of Logan would rub off on her. She needed some gruff abrasiveness now and then.

Even though being with her plants was calming, she still could not shake her feelings of loneliness. She thought that maybe she should have at least *asked* Charles if he wanted to do something with her. He might have said yes. But, it was too late now. She was already watering the plants and the idea of walking back up the stairs to his office was not a pleasant one.

She and Charles had been friends for many years. She cherished that aspect of their relationship because among the team it was a rather unique one. To most of the people in the house, past and present, he was a mentor, a teacher and a father-but not a friend. When she came to the team she was an adult, so the paternal role was out. Being a weather goddess in Africa she had already honed her skills, so the teacher role was out. And she was already self-assured and her own person, so the role of mentor wasn't necessary either. She and Charles came together as equals and their friendship reflected that. He confided in her,( telling her things that he would never tell his "students") he asked for and valued her opinion, he *asked* her to do things instead of *telling* her to do things, and, most importantly, he shared with her the burden of the "dream." 

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By the time he emerged from the kitchen Charles not only had cake but he also had fruit, sandwiches, chips and soda. He put it all in a basket and hoped Ororo was up for a picnic. He wheeled himself from the back of the house to the far side of the house where the greenhouse was attached. When he reached the door, he found it was already open. He didn't immediately see Ororo, so he went inside. Due to the overcast sky and the rather dark interior of the greenhouse, Charles had to let his eyes adjust before he could see her. When he could see, he expected to find her looking at him, but she wasn't. She was inspecting a plant leaf by leaf and paying the outside world no mind. This gave him an opportunity to unabashedly watch her. 

Today she was wearing a dark green peasant top with long billowing sleeves embroidered with flowers and leaves along the collar. The skirt was also dark green and just as billowy as the shirt. Her hair was loose and rested on her shoulders in soft waves. He was secretly glad that she grew out her bangs and cut her hair to shoulder length. It was his favorite of all her hair styles. He did briefly wonder about her attire- considering the weather. With the thin material of the outfit and the top being off the shoulder-she was definitely dressed for spring, not winter. He figured that she must be heating the air around herself or she just wasn't affected by the cold. Mutants were incredibly resistant to many things. It was known that most of the X-Men: Logan, Bobby, Remy, Ororo, Hank, Jean...just to name a few, were quite immune to the cold because of their powers. 

As she moved from one plant to another, he could hear the gentle chiming of her ankle bracelet and the bracelets on her arms. The ankle bracelet he had gotten her for her birthday. He had wanted it to be a special gift, so he spent months getting charms from all over the world. One charm for every year of her life and each from a different country. Thirty-two charms in all. It was quite an expensive gift considering the air fares, time, and effort; but it was worth it when she opened the small box he carefully wrapped himself and was speechless. Everyone, with the exception of Jean and Remy (the telepath and empath understood the significance), had been trying to peek over her shoulder to see what this magnificent gift was and was quite disappointed to see just a charm bracelet. But the way her eyes shone and the emotion in her voice when she said, "Oh, Charles...I love it. Thank you so very much, my friend" told him that she felt the love and caring behind the gift. She wore it practically everyday now. She said it was her favorite gift. 

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Ororo was inspecting her plants for infestations and frost when she felt a presence watching her. She was no telepath but her intuition was top notch. Being severely claustrophobic also taught her to be aware of the space around her. When someone entered into a certain size area around her, she knew it. She figured it was probably someone coming home for the day. Most likely Logan or Remy since only they would sit and watch her in silence for long periods of time until she acknowledged them. She straightened her back and turned around expecting to see Remy or Logan, but instead she saw Charles watching her with a fascinated look on his face. 

"Charles, what a surprise. How long have you been here? There, I mean." 

"Not too long." He said. 

He made no move to come forward or further explain himself, so she began speaking to fill in the silence. "I thought you were in your office working on something. I passed by and thought about coming in, but I figured that you were most likely busy and I did not want to disturb you."

He took note of the slight discomfort he could feel coming from her and moved his chair forward to close the gap between them and hopefully alleviate some of it. 

Ororo didn't know why she suddenly felt nervous. She had a feeling that someone was behind her so he hadn't really frightened her. She could tell by the look on his face that he was as puzzled by her reaction as she was.

He felt her nervousness, but he couldn't pin point its source and so he decided to ignore it.

"I have been in my office working all day. It was definitely time for me to take a break."

As she listened she thought, 'He isn't down here to see me, he was just bored.' 

Her disappointment wasn't evident on her face, but she had unknowingly broadcasted the thought and Charles picked it up.

He moved closer and said, "Ororo, I did stop working because I was tired and hungry, but I came down here because I knew you were down here, and I thought that....maybe, you would like to have lunch with me." As he said the part about lunch he held up the picnic basket as proof of his intentions.

"Oh, really?" Ororo tried to suppress the surprise in here voice, with moderate success. She felt a warm feeling of joy spread through her when she realized that he was thinking about her and went to the trouble of making them lunch.

Charles nodded at her question and gestured towards the door of the greenhouse. She smiled and then proceeded to walk out of the door and into the sunshine.

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They looked for a place to eat in and decided that a spot next to the lake would be ideal. The lake might have been frozen, but it was still quite a view. There was a stark beauty to the land now. Everything was in the same place, but at this time of the year it was like looking at a negative of a picture. If Ororo had not been a Goddess of the weather they would have had to have eaten inside. The sun was already shining, but she turned up the heat (so to speak) to melt the snow and knock a bit of the chill out of the air.

After she warmed things up a bit, Ororo settled down onto the cloth Charles had taken off of the kitchen table for their picnic. She had begun to take the food out of the basket while Charles set about getting out of his chair. Looking into the basket she couldn't find any napkins, so she looked up to ask Charles if he brought any with him. Her question was momentarily forgotten as she watched him attempt to get out of the chair. She would have offered to lift him herself, but she was afraid of embarrassing him. It then dawned on her that it was silly to think that he would need her help to get out of his chair. He had been paralyzed for years and she had never seen him ask for help getting in or out of his chair before. 

First he reached behind the chair to lock the wheels into place, he then braced his arms on the arms rests of the chair, then with a small grunt he pushed himself into a standing position. Ororo couldn't suppress her gasp of surprise that she was sure was mirrored on her face. She didn't know what to be more surprised at: the fact that he could stand or the fact that she had never realized how strong and muscular he was. She had never seen him move out or into his chair before, so both facts were very pleasant surprises. 

As he set about getting out of the chair, Charles knew that Ororo would be surprised that he could stand. It was due to brand new technology that Hank had helped develop. Electrodes throughout his legs electrically stimulated his nerves when he pressed a button on a remote attached to his belt. He hadn't told anyone because he wanted to practice more. As of right now, he could only use if for about two hours a day. The effort it took to move around was momentous and he was exhausted after two hours. He was glad that Ororo would be the first to know. 

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After everything was all set they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Both were famished and talking would prevent them from stuffing their faces. They would occasionally catch the others eye, from time to time, and then slowly look away as if by force. Midway through their meal Ororo picked up an orange and began to slowly peel it. So intent was her focus on the fruit that he was able to watch her, again, without her knowledge. The first thing he looked at, that all people looked at, was her hair. Snow white and unbelievably shiny. Her hair rivaled anything he had ever seen on a shampoo commercial. She had recently changed the style too. It used to be about waist length and perfectly straight with longish bangs. Now it fell about an inch below her shoulders in soft waves. Also gone were the bangs. Not as long as the rest of her hair yet, but they were long enough to push behind her ears. He smiled to himself when he realized that he had never seen Ororo have a bad hair day. If she had bad hair, she *choose* to have bad hair. The mohawk she sported about 10 years ago is a testament to that fact.

When she finished peeling her orange and taking most of the white stuff off of it, she raised a slice to her lips and stopped when she saw him looking at her with a small smile on his face. She wasn't surprised to be the object of his scrutiny (Logan and Remy were *always* looking at her like that), she was surprised that it was *him* looking at her like that. Her first thought was to ignore the look, but her curiosity got the better of her and she softly asked him, "Charles, what are you looking at?"

Charles was still musing about her hair when he heard her question. He looked up and was momentarily taken aback by the vision before him. She had the most expressive and intense eyes he had ever seen. Light brown and almond shaped, her eyes spoke volumes without her needing to say a word. Looking at her hair was one thing, but her hair combined with her brown eyes, full lips, cute nose, and dark skin was too much. He could feel a hot flush on his cheeks as the seconds ticked by. She raised her eyebrow as if to say "Well?" when he hadn't answered. Well, he figured, honesty was the best policy and he might as well tell her the truth. With a perfect calm in his voice that he didn't feel at all inside, he said, "I was looking at you, actually. First it was your hair, while you were peeling the orange, and then it was just you, all of you. Your eyes, hair, skin...everything. I know it sounds crazy, but it felt like I was seeing you for the first time." The embarrassment he was feeling increased ten fold at that admission. He had planned to just say that he was looking at her. Period. 

When she asked the question, Ororo had expected for him to say something along the lines of, 'Me? Oh, nothing.' or "Hmmm, nothing really.' The answer he gave instead took her completely by surprise. She could tell by the shade of red he was turning that he, most likely, had not planned to say all of that-at least not aloud. He was staring at his hands now and leaving it up to her where the conversation went from here. The urge to brush off the statement and prevent him from dying of embarrassment was strong, but the feeling of needing to know was even stronger. Ororo often felt that noone really saw her. Sure, people stared at her in the streets because of her exotic looks; her teammates saw her as one of their leaders; and her friends more or less saw themselves through her instead of seeing her. The thought of someone *really* seeing her was both terrifying and electrifying. And not just anyone was looking at her, seeing her, the person was Charles. Her oldest friend and the person she most admired. Out of everyone she knew it was him who she most wanted to see her.

"Charles....how, what, could you be seeing me for the first time?" She struggled with saying the right thing and hoped her question was intelligible.

He thought she was going to change the subject, but instead she was looking at him with eyes filled with curiosity and....hope. "I can't really explain it, Ororo. I know we see each other every day of our lives, but today seems different somehow. I feel as if we, and our relationship, is changing. I can't verbally explain how, but I feel it and have felt it for a while now." He paused and fiddled with his fingers before looking up again and quietly asking, "What about you?"

"I feel the same way, Charles." It was true. She had been feeling for a while now that something about their relationship was changing. "I feel nervous when you are around, I avoid you when possible and I....get shy, I guess, in your presence." 

"Well, it seems as if we are on the same page then. I have been feeling everything you just said and I have felt all of that coming from you lately. I feel silly because it feels and sounds like we have high school crushes on one another!" He laughed and then stopped short when his offhanded comment actually registered in his brain. They *were* both acting like two people with more than friendly feelings towards each other. And if it walks like a duck, sounds like a duck and acts like a duck...well....Looking at her face, he knew Ororo's thoughts mirrored his own. 

"Well, you would think being a teacher of teenagers and young adults would make you perceptive to this sort of thing," She said. "I am very glad to finally know why I have been feeling strangely around you. I was beginning to worry about myself!" 

He had expected a look of horror or sadness, not a warm smile and a joke. "Yes, it's good to know that we aren't freaks-figuratively speaking of course." On impulse he reached forward and laid his hand upon hers. It was more a force of habit than anything. They always touched each other in friendly ways like this. When he touched her this time, however, he felt a small jolt of electricity pass through them. 

Without moving her hand or taking her eyes away from his, she said in a low and almost breathy sounding voice, "Sorry." She wasn't expecting him to touch her, and she certainly wasn't expecting to send out a jolt of electricity. The apology was half-hearted at best. She enjoyed the feel of his very warm hand on top of hers. Feeling the elements coursing through her body made Ororo forget her nervousness. She was feeling like a Goddess and as such she was cool, calm, and collected. After it became obvious that he wasn't going to move his hand, which was a good sign, she took the next step and slowly leaned forward. 

Charles's heart was about to beat out of his chest. The look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand....it was all driving him crazy. There was so much about this situation to think about, but all he could focus on was her. After a few seconds he saw and felt the nervousness melt away from her as easily as the snow did. That look on her face, he knew it; oh, he knew it well. She was in full Goddess mode and the confidence that came with it was awe inspiring. 

She began to move towards him, slowly. Slow enough that he would have plenty of time to move and prevent what was going to happen next-if he wanted to. Every cell in his body was anticipating and fantasizing about her touch, so moving backward wasn't even an option. The only direction for him to go was forward-and he did. 

When their lips met they both froze as if caught in a pocket of time that had a population of two. Their lips were barely touching, but everything else seemed to be merging: their breath, their heartbeats....their souls. The kiss itself was so light that even Jane Austin would have been clamoring for more. But the kiss wasn't about learning the layout of the other person's mouth; tasting what they had for lunch; or trying to win an MTV award for best kiss. No, for Ororo, the kiss was about letting go of the past and seeing beauty where once she had only seen bleakness. And for Charles the kiss was about discovery. What he always wanted, he discovered he already had. 

When they parted and opened their eyes, everything had changed for them. It was as if their old reality died when they closed their eyes, and a new one was created when they opened them. 

"You know,' Charles said while pushing some stray hair behind Ororo's ear "...Helen Keller said: 'When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened before us.' I feel like I finally see that open door before me, and you're standing on the other side of it." 

Ororo gave him a radiant smile and said, "Hmmm, T.S. Eliot said: 'We shall not cease from exploration, and at the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.' I believe what he says is true. I have been everywhere imaginable, but this mansion and you are where my journeys really began...and I feel as if it is all new." 

"Well, now that we have demonstrated how well read we are, why don't we have a toast...with, uh, soda?" 

She laughed and raised her can, "Alright, what should we toast to?"

Raising his own he said, "How about a toast to... something new between old friends?" 

After lightly tapping their cans together they locked gazes and hands and then repeated in unison: "To something new between old friends."


End file.
